The Disturbing Part
by Kmikaze KAtie AAPPG 42
Summary: Just something out of my sick little tiwsted mind, First Andromeda Fanfic! Remember that


Rating: G

Plot: Let's just say, for the sake of argument, that Beka's 'dream' was more than just a ploy to try to get Dylan to let her haul Cargo. Let's just say she actually had a dream… What WAS the disturbing part of Beka's dream?

Just so you know: when we talk about the dream, we're just gonna call Beka, Dylan and all of them by their actual names, unless they're in little **'** marks. Then they're from the character's point of view.

Sex: No, but there is a… wait that'd give it away.

Language: No, unless a bunch of evil little fairies came out after I was asleep and added it. They hate me, you know.

Disclaimer: I should HOPE y'all know I don't own _Andromeda_….

**__**

The Disturbing Part

Beka headed for her quarters, more than ready to hit the sack and fall asleep as soon as she hit it. It had been a long and frustrating day; but then again EVERYDAY on the Andromeda was a long and frustrating day. Today was particularly frustrating because Dylan wouldn't let her open hold cargo on the Andromeda. Asteroids of pure platinum and he wouldn't carve out a chunk! How thick could you get? She sighed as she opened the door to her quarters. She grabbed a quick shower, but on a nighty and went to sleep. The dream she had was most interesting and most disturbing.

Let's get one thing straight from the start about Beka's dream. She wasn't aware she was Beka. In her dream she was Quenivere and Dylan wasn't Dylan. Dylan was Arthur. The Andromeda was the round table and Merlin was Rommie, or rather her essence. 

__

Beka sat with Dylan in the throne room, arguing about taxes.

"Camelot hasn't been pulling in enough money. We're going to have to collect more Taxes." Beka said. 

"No, we're not going to tax the people any more than we already have," Dylan responded to her. They'd gone over this time and time again. "We're already asking enough of the people, we don't need to add more taxes on top of it."

"Well then what do you suggest we do?" Beka snapped. Before the argument could go any further, Rommie entered.

"We'll need to sell the Round Table," She said. Dylan looked as if his head would pop off.

"What!?" He shouted. "No! Never!"

"It's either that or tax the people more, as Quenivere suggested," Rommie said calmly.

"That's NOT an option," Dylan said. "Look, we're not adding on any more taxes and we're definitely NOT selling the Round Table."

"Then what option is left?" Rommie countered.

"She's got a point, Arthur…." Beka started

"No," Dylan cut her off, "look, we're just going to have to find another way. Perhaps better trade routs or something. At any rate, we'll figure it out when all the nights are present," He said. Rommie nodded and left. Beka sighed and left as well, and brushed past Tyr (or Lancelot), as she left. Tyr looked after Beka as she passed then entered the throne room to have 'Arthur' fill him in on the current issues at hand.

Beka was in her room, angry with 'Arthur' for not doing anything about the loss of money. The choice was simple and the answer doubly so. Ten minutes after she had slammed her door, there was a knock at it. Perhaps it was 'Arthur' coming to apologize or inform her that a decision had been reached or something. "Come in," She said the knock, as she finished brushing out her hair. To her surprise it wasn't 'Arthur' but 'Lancelot' who was on the other side of the door and to add to her surprise, she didn't feel too disappointed about it. 

"What is it, Sir Lancelot? Has Arthur sent you to tell me what decision has been reached?" She inquired.

"No, My queen, he hasn't even begun talking yet. Some of the other knights have yet to arrive," Tyr answered.

"So, why are you here?" Beka asked.

"King Arthur told me of your thoughts of the matter, and what he thought of them."

"And?"

"And, I agree with you. We must either tax the people of this kingdom or sell something off. I only wish King Arthur could see that as easily as you," Tyr said. He was still standing in the doorway of her room. 

"Thank you, Sir Lancelot, it's good to see someone agrees with me," Beka turned to him.

"I agree with you on a lot of things," Tyr said flatly.

"Meaning?"

Tyr moved into her room and shut the door, Beka was very aware of it, but pretended it didn't matter to her. He leaned up against a wall and addressed her. "Meaning you have the right ideas, ideas that would ensure the survival of this kingdom. King Arthur and his blind idealism can't see it," He explained.

"Oh, I see," Beka said.

"You're one of the only ones who do," Tyr said as he looked blankly out one of the windows in her room.

"And you, Sir Lancelot, what do you see?" 

"We should sell the round table. It would fetch a fair price and we don't need it. If that isn't enough we should tax the people of this kingdom to insure its survival," Tyr answered. That wasn't what Beka had been asking, and she wondered if 'Lancelot' knew it. 

"I meant…" Her voice trailed off. Tyr looked at her strangely, as if puzzling her out. 

"Meant what?" he asked. Beka was at a loss for words, and tried to figure out how to answer.

"Nothing, never mind," She said quickly, but Tyr wasn't going to let go.

"You obviously meant something," He observed. He shifted his position, and eyed her as if he thought he was on what she was talking about. "You meant about you, didn't you?" He asked. She quickly turned away but nodded her head in spite of herself. He moved a few steps away from the wall. "If that's the case, I see someone strong, with her head in the right place," he said. Before she could stop herself, she turned to face him.

"Is that all?" She asked, her voice quieter than usual. She would have said it with more bass but her throat felt tight. He was slightly taken aback by what she had said, but she was utterly shocked. He now moved in closer to her.

"Why? Would you want there to be more?" He asked. Beka found it hard to speak; she focused on him as he moved closer to her, his head cocked to one side. He looked her straight in the eye. He leaned in closer and quietly whispered to her. "There is." He ran his fingers through her hair and leaned in closer to her. Their lips met in a kiss. Beka slowly put her arms around him and Tyr did the same their kiss deepened and lasted a few minutes longer before they parted.

With that Beka woke up with a start, her heart racing. That, she thought, was disturbing. She didn't know what was more disturbing. The dream or the fact she didn't mind that her subconscious had her kissing Tyr. Just then a thought struck her. Selling the round table? That dream would be a great ploy to try to get Dylan to let her carry cargo… she would just be sure **not** to tell him about the last part. She smiled to herself as she got dressed and headed down to talk to Dylan about it. What made things even more disturbing was that she wasn't sure just what about the entire thing it was that had her smiling so much. 


End file.
